The end run
by Clever Plot Device
Summary: It's been sixty years since the last conflict between Johto and Kanto. Both sides have had the time to lick their wounds and recover from the staggering losses they amassed during the conflict, but one border skirmish sets off a chain of events that will determine the future of the region. And they've got a brand new weapon to settle their generations old score.
1. Chapter 1: Apocalypse Now

On the heavily militarized border of Kanto and Johto, the Kanto side of the five mile no-mans-land was full of bored soldiers. Their barracks were filled with their chattering, with the obvious exceptions of the sentry-men. Thick layers of dust were covering the armory, which showed signs of neglect. After all, if no one could use their guns, no point in even cleaning them. All the troops stationed there assumed they were in for light skirmishing with their enemies across the border. All they got was endless drills and waiting for the other side to make a move. Thirty years was an awful long time for an army to get idle and restless, especially after the dubious means of the last one ending.

The conflict before the end was higher than any other conflict between the unfriendly nations, and the only reason it ended was the intervention by a pokemon, Mew. No one had even heard of the thing before it happened, though myths have shown that it has been around for a very long time. It disabled the automatic weapons of both sides, making them unable to wage strategically sound war on the other side. Strangely enough, machines still worked, so the world itself was not brought to a standstill. A treaty was begrudgingly signed, and a cold war set in between the two powers.

So feelings were brooded during this time, sentiments on both sides going into the gutter. Mistrust, trade deals gone wrong, and good old fashioned hate contributed to the brewing storm of war that loomed over both regions. But as both were unable to wage the war they had so viciously wanted, the cold war continued on. And for thirty years, until the sentry alarm went off at the border outpost, everything was just the calm before the storm that threatened to claim so many lives. All it needed was a catalyst.

All the soldiers immediately stood to attention, and their chattering turned into a full on conversation. It wasn't like Johto could make a move. Their weapons were all out, just like Kanto's. At least from what intelligence had last said. They were a bit iffy on what was happening inside of the country, especially since their spies had been coming back more than a little confused about the troop movements.

In the barracks, there was a averagely heighted young man, with a particularly red hair and thick rimmed glasses. He was dressed like the rest of the soldiers, though he had taken off his coat and hung it on the back of his chair. Messing with his buttoned up shirt, he looked upwards at the blaring alarm, pushing up his glasses nervously. Suddenly, a large man pushed through the crowd of soldiers, looking directly at the ginger.

"Timothy! Our squad is up to go check out the sentry alarm!" The man bellowed, easily being the tallest person in the room. The chattering stopped once the giant had finished speaking, and all eyes were upon Timothy's squad, and the duo who were so engrossed in a one-sided conversation.

"But we just got off duty, Mike!" The much smaller man protested, but it was a useless effort. Mike was their squad leader, and quite possibly the largest man Timothy had ever seen. He had been a Tauros herder before he enlisted, and his body showed the signs of the hard labor labor he endured during his youth. Fiercely loyal to Kanto and one of the most patriotic people Timothy had ever seen, he was intimidating to simply be around.

The ginger wasn't quite so built as his fellow soldier, more like lean and built for speed. Growing up in the sprawling metropolis of Saffron city left him woefully ill prepared for the rigors of military life, or the wildlife that came with it. The first time he had ever seen a pokemon was when he patrolling the border, and small caterpie had fell onto his back. The event is not spoken of much anymore, but everyone remembers his aversion to bug pokemon.

He was already being dragged off by the larger man, while the rest of the squad followed behind the two, sulking in the fact that they had to leave the cozy barracks to go into the cold mountain air. They grabbed their coats and made their way out, and Timothy shivered from the sheer cold of the night air. The snow didn't make it too much better, and the solemn group began their march through the snow towards the sentry post at least a mile off.

Timothy marched on, and so did his squad. But as they arrived, they immediately noticed that there was something very wrong at the small shack that served as the sentry post. The door was ripped off of it's hinges, and snow was pouring in the shack. from the brewing storm. The most disturbing thing about the scene was the fact that it was completely silent in the night air, save for the crunching of the soldier's boots. Not a single sound came from the shack. Not even the lights were lit. Mike stepped forward, his hulking frame blocking the doorway entirely. He stood on the verge of darkness, no light coming out from the cabin. "Hello? Anyone in there?" The man called out.

The last thing he would see before his untimely death was a pair of red eyes peering out from the darkness, and jaws clamping down on his throat, which was promptly ripped out by a houndoom. No one could say they saw that coming, and all the soldiers were simply dumbfounded as their squad leader bleed out into the snow, coloring it with his blood. The perpetrator was standing tall and triumphant, it's head reaching to to around Timothy's neck. Mike's blood was still fresh on it's lips, and it curled those back in a snarl as it charged the group. They suddenly were brought back to reality, and braced themselves for the attack.

The hound itself reminded Timothy of a vulpix, a small little fox-like creature. Though this thing was a far-cry from the cute little pup he had seen in pictures. This was a being of pure malevolence, or something close to it. It's eyes glowed blood red in the stark darkness, and it was hard to even make out it's black coat of fur. Only the bleach white markings on it's ribs gave any sign that the hound was even there, along with those haunting eyes. Twin ivory horns curved out of it's head, and it felt like looking upon the devil itself to the shivering saffronite.

However, more men began to drop, along with more shapes emerging from the cold darkness. Human shapes, along with faster things running along the ground. The frigid night air was full of the screams of men, and the howls of pokemon whom ran through the freshly fallen snow. A scyther cut the man in front of Timothy plain in two, and even in his terrible condition, the man continued to scream for mercy and in agony. He was promptly put out of his misery by a knife to the throat by a particularly vicious looking Johtoan. Timothy was rooted where he stood from a mixture of fear and astonishment.

Both the man and the Scyther advanced on the shocked man, but Timothy found himself being shoved away by a squadmate. "Run away, idiot!" He yelled, booking off in his own direction into the dark night. When they had first set out, they had been a squad of sixteen men. Now there were just three alive at most. And the body count was still going.

The ginger needed no further heed, trying to trudge away in the snow. He ran into the woods, and kept running. He ran from the monsters at their doorstep, from their masters, from the biting cold that surrounded his senses. And when he could run no more, he collapsed in the snow, feeling the darkness creep in on all sides.

_(I should state that this story is based off a deviantart rp group whom goes by the name of End Run, and I reccomend you should check it out. It's an awesome art group and they've created an amazing fiction that I'm honored to use. On another side note, I'd be more than willing to accept original characters for this fanfiction. Though I'd like the applications to be through pm's, they can only have one pokemon to start from, and I'd like a detailed description of both the soldier and the pokemon. Mind you, this is a realistic enviroment, and the pokemon should be treated as such. If you can't make a description, I'll be more than happy to.)_


	2. Chapter 2: Strange Bedfellows

In the stark blackness that made up Timothy's mind, his nightmares roamed free within the confines of his unconscious mind. Bloody muzzle hounds and vicious predators of his own creation terrorized the entirety of his mind. He was lost in his own little twisted wonderland, and he could only wait till the figments of his imagination would stop their assault on his brain.

This went on for some time, until, to put it simply, he woke up. It was a plain white room, which much he could see even in his heavily disoriented state. As he tried to sit up, he gave a low groan and placed a hand on his bandaged head. This was something he hadn't known. As he finally got into a sitting position, he sighed and leaned back onto a pillow. He had many questions, but first things first. Where was he?

The room wasn't solely occupied by the ginger fellow, as he could he the light breathing of someone sleeping beside him. Rather, behind the curtain that separated their sides of the room. I quick rundown of the facts that he played in his head allowed him to come to the conclusion that he was in a hospital. Timothy: 1, everyone else: Nada. There was a small window one his side of the room, and from his restricted angle, Timothy could make out some basic landmarks that made him jump to the reasonable conclusion that he was in Viridian city. This was quite the distance from the border to Johto.

As much as doing triage helped him make sense of his situation, it only served to raise more questions than it answered. He remembered blacking out, but he assumed that was the end. And even if he hadn't died there, why wasn't he at the border station? Being in Viridian was his main source of worry. What had happened that was so bad that he wasn't at the station. He wasn't able to ponder these questions for much longer, as the nurse strolled into the room then. She gave a short gasp at the sight of Timothy sitting up, then rushed back out the room. He could hear plainly "Doctor, he's awake!" Outside the room

Timothy groaned from the yelling, his head pounding. He felt like someone swung a spade at his head. Which was actually fairly probable. With no guns, you'd be surprised at the ways people to kill each other. Shovels, knives, hell, some people brought out some old swords. Timothy was fairly sure he'd seen some people from his squad pick up bones to sword fight for fun. Though the Cubone they got them from wasn't pleased to see them with its collection. That earned a little giggle from the ginger, looking back on better times.

Unfortunately, that seemed to wake up the other occupant of the room. The man sleeping next to Timothy stirred in his slumber, and groggily sat up in his bed. Or that's what it looked like the shadow was doing through the curtain. Timothy wasn't sure what he was doing exactly, just making guesses at this point. Though he wouldn't have to after the mystery man pulled the curtain back.

He was a tan man, and most likely taller than Timothy, though most people were. He had muscles, not the lean things that Timothy had. They weren't exactly bulging, but you could tell that he was strong from the way he carried himself. He had dark amber eyes, which were full of laughter and joy. He had a grin on his face, with deep laugh lines carved into his face. He looked like the type of person that'd make you laugh if looked at him for too long, or if you started a conversation with him he'd honestly try to be interested in what you were talking about. He was good people, Timothy was sure of that much.

He studied Timothy over, making the ginger feel pretty self-conscious for a couple of moments. He must look a mess, with a bandaged head and who knows how many else injuries he hadn't noticed. But his fears were put to rest when the man offered a hand to him. "The name's Benny. How ya doing?" Timothy took the hand, shaking it with as much strength he could muster in his in his depleted condition.

"Not feeling too well, but I suppose I'll be fine. You feeling alright?" He answered briskly, pushing up his glasses. The man pointed to his bandaged chest, still grinning, either from pride or the fact that he had a battle scar. "My wound is healing up pretty good, so I think I'm doing great. Especially since I'm not, you know, dead. I think that and the fact that I smacked down an Ekans that came at me is great. They thought the wound was infected for a while so- Ah crap, I've been talking on and on and haven't even bothered to learn your name. "

He was right on the talking front. The ginger hadn't ever seen anyone talk as fast and much as Benny had, but he was a good guy. "Timothy. Timothy Dax." He answered back. Benny, satisfied that his answer was answered, opened his mouth to get back to what he was conversing about. He was stopped thankfully by the doctor coming into the room. He looked at Benny and Timothy, writing something on his clipboard. He spoke to Benny first, doing his own sort of triage. "Private Hamlin, you're free to go-"

The tan man's eternal grin grew wider and he slipped out of his bed, already half dressed. He must have known that today was the day he got out, and prepared thusly. He grabbed his shirt, gave a salute to both Timothy and the doctor, and ran out of the room with a laugh, leaving both men flabbergasted. Benny was not known for tact, or patience.

"He's um…Interesting." Timothy spoke, breaking the awkward silence between them. The doctor looked over at him, giving a soft smile at the remark.

"…And you'll be released tomorrow…" The doctor frowned, knowing Benny will be back when the nurses won't allow him to leave. He then turned to Tim with a forced smile. "Yes, he's one of our army cases, like yourself. We found it simpler to hold the both of you in the same room, mostly for clerical reasons."

"Ah. Mind telling me what happened to me?"

The doctor's face darkened at the question, and he looked down at the clipboard in his hands. "Mr. Dax, you were attacked on the border by a Johtoan squad. As of four days ago, Kanto is at war with Johto." And Timothy's face showed all the signs of the panic he was feeling internally. The first thing blurted out of his mouth was probably not the brightest thing he could've said in that situation.

"I was out for four days?!"

"…Besides your minor concussion, we see no reason to not let you go. No brain damage, no other injuries as far as we can see. You're being redeployed back into a platoon in Viridian city. You're free to go."

This was a severe lack of information as far was Timothy was concerned. How in the hell were they at war with Johto?! Neither side had efficient means to fight, besides sending hordes of soldiers at each other in mass killing fields. And after the casualties of the last conflict, no one on either side wanted that. Suddenly, something clicked within the back of his mind. When the Johto troops attacked his squad, they were using, Pokémon. Everything fell into place soon after that.

"Sir…how exactly are we fighting?" The doctor sighed, his eyes meeting the gingers.

"Ever heard of the Silph Company?" Tim nodded, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Doesn't answer my question, but yeah, I've heard about them. Aren't they some technology company or something?"

"Yes, something along those lines. They've created a device, or at least a prototype, that allows for the capturing of Pokémon." Which sounded like something straight out of a novel to Tim, but he kept his comments internal. At least for the moment.

"Are you serious?! And what, we're just going to go capture monsters? There's a reason people don't go into forests at night, sir, and that's because they never come out. Monsters, that's the military's solution?"

"Well if we don't do something, Johto will have no qualms about using their own prototypes to steamroll over us! Face it kid, we're out of options here! It's been sixty years, and hell, our guns don't work. Our cannons don't work. Bombs don't even blow up when they hit the ground! It's them or us, and I'm proud our leaders are choosing us!" The doctor snapped, catching the ginger off guard. He hadn't quite expected that from the quiet man.

"War at any costs, huh?"

"Do we even have a choice, ?"

And as much as he wanted to deny the logic, he knew he had to accept it. Some wars are fought with soldiers. This one was going to be fought with monsters.


End file.
